


Why Love Makes A Family

by writeitininkorinblood



Series: Why Little Sisters Are Definitely Evil [4]
Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Homophobic Language, Hospitals, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-07
Updated: 2016-01-07
Packaged: 2018-05-12 09:43:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5661727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writeitininkorinblood/pseuds/writeitininkorinblood
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A phone call in the middle of the night telling Race that his little sister was in hospital was bad enough. His parents finding out about Spot made it officially one of the worst nights of his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Why Love Makes A Family

**Author's Note:**

> A final work for this series. Thank you for all the comments and kudos I've had, it means a lot! acethespian asked for some backstory, so I've tried to include some to explain things a little more. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't know anything about about hospitals in America, including how your A&E or your visiting hours work. Sorry for anything that's inaccurate.

A siren blared through the quiet of Race and Spot’s bedroom and it had both boys sitting up fast, rubbing sleep from their eyes.

“What the fuck is that?” Spot groaned, turning on the bedside lamp and blinking as his eyes adjusted to the brightness. The wailing didn’t sound like their fire alarm, and it was far too close to be a car alarm.

Race just fumbled for his phone, awkwardly bending his arm backwards to reach it so he didn’t have to move too far.

“My phone. I set my parents their own ringtone…” he said, his voice rough with sleep and punctuated with a yawn. Looking down at his phone, he confirmed his fear. _Maria mobile calling_. It was his mother. It felt weird to consider having a conversation with her whilst lying next to a fiancé she didn’t even know existed, so he begrudgingly sat up, swinging his feet over the side of the bed.

“What do they want?” Spot asked, sounding entirely put out. Considering these people never spoke to their son, why did they have to choose 2 a.m. as a good time to reconnect? He wanted to go back to sleep, but as long as Race was unsettled, that was impossible.

Race just shrugged, answering the call with a confused and frustrated ‘yeah?”

Spot rolled onto his side to watch as Race took the call. It didn’t take long for all the colour to drain out of his fiancé’s face and when he jumped up and started hurriedly dressing, Spot knew there was something very, very wrong. The entire conversation was in rapid-fire Italian that he couldn’t understand a word of, but he knew it wasn’t good news. As soon as Race hung up the phone he dropped it on the floor in his haste to pull on his jeans.

“Race, what’s going on?” Spot got out of bed and jumped in front of him, putting a hand on each of his shoulders and trying to force him to make eye-contact.

Race fought his way out of the grip, desperate to get ready as quickly as possible, but Spot stepped in front of him again and grabbed his hands, kissing him fiercely to snap him out of his panic.

“Tony, you have to talk to me. What’s happened?” Spot insisted. He wasn’t above phoning Race’s mother back himself to ask her if Race didn’t explain what had scared him so much.

“Sofia. She’s in hospital. Scott, please. Let me go.” He struggled weakly for a moment before giving up and pleading, his eyes wide and threatening tears.

Spot dropped Race’s hands in shock when he’d processed what he’d heard. After a second’s deliberation, he started to throw on his own clothes.

“What are you doing?” Race faltered for a moment when he saw Spot pulling on a T-shirt.

“Coming with you,” Spot answered, as if it were obvious. “We’re going to be married, Tony. That makes her my little sister, too. And there’s no way I’m letting you drive like this. The last thing I need is you in hospital, too.”

Race looked at him for one long second before nodding once, feeling slightly overwhelmed. The mix of his concern for Sofia and his complete and utter love for Spot was making him feel lightheaded. Needing something to ground him, he threw his arms around his fiancé. Spot flinched, not comfortable with people making quick movements towards him, but hugged Race back after a moment before stepping back and letting them both get dressed.

 

Race should have known they’d have a problem getting to see Sofia at the hospital. The second he’d walked into the building, he’d been on guard. His dad was almost certainly somewhere within these walls and Race had brought his fiancé with him. It was like he was asking for trouble. He’d dropped Spot’s hand as soon as they crossed the threshold, missing the comforting grip but knowing it was far safer for the both of them. It made it easier once they got to the nurse at the desk and asked to see Sofia. Race knew he counted as her immediate family, but Spot didn’t. Legally, he was a stranger to Sofia.

“He’s my half-brother,” Race answered quickly, when Spot was asked who he was. The nurse looked down at him like she didn’t quite belief him, but a mix of Italian charm and confidence got them both in.

When they were hurrying down the corridor to Sofia’s room, his ‘half-brother’ questioned his methods.

“What the fuck?’ Spot whispered through gritted teeth, not wanting to loudly proclaim that he shouldn’t be there, but also not entirely happy being called Race’s half-brother.

“You aren’t family; they wouldn’t let you in otherwise. We’re not married yet.” Race hated having to keep pointing that out. As soon as they were home and Sofia was okay, they had to talk about when they were making things official. It made practical sense, and he wasn’t going to deny there were also emotional benefits.

“Would I even legally be considered Sofia’s immediate family if we were married?” Spot asked, curious.

Race faltered a little in his walk, but just shrugged. “…I don’t have a clue. Can we not argue about this, please?” There were more important immediate problems.

They stopped in front of the door they’d been told was Sofia’s, not quite finished with the conversation.

“Fine. But in the future don’t tell people that the guy I’m fucking is related to me, it’s just wrong.” Spot wrinkled his nose.

“The guy you’re engaged to,” Race corrected sharply, shooting Spot a glare. They were more to each other than anonymous sexual partners. Far more.

“I really don’t think that helps your case.” Spot smirked and, with a quick look around to check they didn’t have company, kissed Race quickly, before stepping aside and gesturing the way to the door.

 

Race took a deep breath, not knowing who or what he was going to find on the other side of the door. His mum hadn’t said his father was there, but he couldn’t believe he wouldn’t be. Before he had time to regret coming, and especially bringing Spot, he knocked twice and opened the door.

To Race’s immense relief, his father wasn’t in the room. His mum was sat in the chair on the far side of Sofia’s bed, looking up when Race walked in, almost shocked to see him. She stood up fast, but he ignored her for a moment, rushing over to see Sofia. She was unconscious, a bandage wrapped round her forehead and her arm in a cast. She’d fallen down the stairs in the dark, hitting her head on the sideboard at the bottom, and she still hadn’t woken up. Spot was beside him, wanting to touch him in some way, hold his hand or put an arm around him, to let him know everything was going to be okay, but not wanting to out Race to his mother like that.

“Tony, who’s this?” Maria asked, confused as to why Race had brought a stranger (at least, to her) in to see Sofia.

“No one, Mum. Just a friend.” It was painful to say Spot was no one, when he was anything but insignificant, but Race didn’t know how to explain that this man was his boyfriend of five years, and his fiancé. Spot had flinched at the reply, but he understood the necessity for it, swallowing back any objections he had.

“A friend who happened to be-” Maria stopped abruptly when she caught sight of the ring on Race’s finger. “Antony Giovanni Higgins, tell me you are NOT married.” There was horror in her words, afraid she’d missed her son’s wedding day and didn’t even know his no doubt beautiful bride.

Race swore under his breath. He should have taken the ring off, but he barely even noticed he was wearing it anymore. It was a part of him now, a visible symbol of commitment and love that he didn’t even want to think about putting back in its box, even temporarily. He hadn’t even thought his mum would notice it.

Spot quickly tucked his hand behind his back, trying to hide his own ring. Maria’s eyes sharpened, focusing in on the small movement and what it was obviously hiding. A veil dropped over her features and the room immediately became somewhere Race really didn’t want to be.

“Tony…”

It was a warning and Race wanted to run and hide. Even at twenty years old, he was still afraid of his family finding out his secret. He knew their views, had since he was old enough to understand the concept of love, and there was no way for this to end well. He addressed the easiest problem first.

“It’s not a wedding ring. It’s an engagement ring,” he explained, feeling like a child again but proud of himself for keeping his voice level. His mum was anything but proud.

“Engagement to whom?” Maria’s voice was cold and harsh. She knew exactly who, but she had to hear the words directly from her son’s mouth.

Race tried to stop his eyes flickering to Spot but it was impossible. It was a second’s slip, but it was just enough to confirm his mother’s worst fear.

“You can’t marry a man.” She was resolute and firm, but neither Race nor his fiancé were accepting her words.

“Yes, I can.”

“Yes, he can.”

Race and Spot both spoke up together, and they couldn’t help but share a quick grin. Spot knew how hard this was for his fiancé, and Race relaxed a little when he realised he didn’t have to stand up to his parents alone.

“Scott, my mother, Maria Ansaldi. Mum, my fiancé, Scott Conlon.” He introduced them with his head held high.

Spot held his hand out for Maria to shake, but she ignored it, regarding him with steely eyes. He was certain there was a biological trait in Race’s family that meant they never wanted to shake hands with him (there was no way Race’s father would be any different), but he soldiered on.

“Nice to meet you… I… Your son… He’s great.” It was arguably the most uncomfortable Spot had ever been. With every word he had to make sure he wasn’t swearing or offending anyone or making a joke that only Race understood and no one else appreciated. Meeting Race’s parents was a big deal, something he never thought would happen. Once he’d gained approval from Sofia, he’d pretty much assumed that was it. But here was Race’s mother, staring down at him like he was to blame for everything wrong with the world, and Spot Conlon had never felt smaller.

“You need to get him out of here,” she said, refusing to address Spot directly, or even look at him.

Race took a step towards Spot, the harshness in Maria’s voice sounding too much like a threat. This was exactly what he’d feared would happen.

“Mum, he cares about Sofia, too. Please let-”

“Your father will be back soon; he’s only gone for coffee. And you know he can’t find him here…” It was ominous, but Race knew Maria was right. If his dad found Spot, and knew who he was, it wouldn’t be good.

Race turned to Spot, clearly on the way to upset, but he smiled weakly when Spot grabbed his hands and coaxed him to look up.

“Text me, as soon as you get news,” he said, knowing it was best for him to bide his time in the waiting room, but still concerned about Sofia. And about Race, alone here with his parents. “Please.”

“Yes, I promise. I love you.” Race said the words partly because he meant them, but also partly to spite his mother. Then he pulled Spot close and kissed him. That was almost entirely to spite his mother. Neither Race nor Spot were big on public displays of affection, and the middle of a hospital room definitely felt public, but anything was worth pissing off Maria a little.

“Love you, too.” Spot said, pulling Race into a hug. That wasn’t to spite anyone, he just wanted to leave his fiancé with a measure of comfort. He stepped away and smiled at Race reassuringly, he hoped, and left the room with a ‘nice to meet you, ma’am,’ for Maria.

Race’s mum had been watching the entire exchange in disbelief, unable to comprehend her son being so comfortable receiving affection from another man, and willingly providing it in return.

Race waited a moment, taking a few deep breaths through his nose, before turning around to face his mother. Now Spot wasn’t there to moan about not understanding, he spoke in Italian.

“That was unnecessary. Scott hasn’t done anything wrong. And neither, for that matter, have I.” His arms were crossed defensively. As much as she’d tried to disguise asking Spot to leave as a warning about his father, his mother had obviously been glad to see him go.

Maria was still sifting through all the information she’d received, frowning when something clicked.

“So. Sofia knew.”

“Scott and I live together, Mum. It would be impossible for her not to know.” Race almost wanted to roll his eyes, but there was no way that was going to improve the situation.

“I can’t believe we’ve been letting her stay with you.”

The accusation behind the words hit him hard, on so many fronts. Allegations that gay people were poor caretakers of children stung, but when it was a personal insult against him and his fiancé, Race felt like his heart was being pushed through a mangle. He loved Sofia and so did Spot, although he’d only admit it under questionable circumstances. They looked after her well and she could never wait to come back again to visit when Race dropped her home. Even if that was partially because she loved tormenting her brother, and that was far easier in close proximity.

Race took a step closer to the bed, taking Sofia’s hand and squeezing it gently. He didn’t want her to hear, even in her unconscious state, their mother say he wasn’t capable of taking care of her because he slept next to another man at night.

“Why not?” Race argued, only just withholding seething anger. “She’s my sister, I should get to see her. And she knew you’d be like this, and dad would be even worse. She teases me and Scott, yeah, but she never saw anything wrong with our relationship. And you shouldn’t either. I love a man. That’s all there is to it. Simple and painless.”

“How long?” Maria asked, ignoring her son and focusing on trying to understand exactly what was going on.

“Since what?” So much had happened since he’d left home, he wasn’t even sure what she was specifically questioning him about.

“Since you thought you were… that? And how long have you been engaged to… that boy?”

The pauses and substitutions in the questions made Race want to not provide any answers, but he was still hoping his mother’s disapproval was ignorance-based, and that showing her Spot was important to him and their relationship was fundamentally no different than a heterosexual one would change her mind a little.

“I’ve _known_ I’m _gay_ for seven or eight years. And Scott and I kind of mutually proposed a little over 4 months ago. We’ve been dating over five years. This isn’t something stupid, Mum. This is my life. When I picture the future, he’s there beside me, and there’s nothing you can say or do to change that. Can you please just take a second to think about this sensibly, maybe apologise? You knew the environment I grew up in, hell you helped create it.

“Do you remember the day they passed the Marriage Equality Act in New York? In 2011? Because I sure as hell do. I’d been out the night before, and you thought I was with friends. Well I was actually with Scott. And I was considering coming out to everyone because I’d come home so happy and I knew I wanted Scott in my life for a long time. And then we were all sat having dinner, with the TV on because our family was far too dysfunctional to actually talk to each other, and I swear to god I was seconds away from telling you all, and then the news came on and they were talking about how they’d just passed the Marriage Equality Act in the state of New York and I was ecstatic because it seemed like the perfect opportunity.

“You remember what happened next, don’t you? I didn’t get the chance to say anything. Dad broke a plate he was so angry at the Act being passed, and he yelled awful things. Sure, they weren’t yelled directly at me, but hearing those words hurts. I was still reliving memories of sleeping beside Scott the night before, and how happy it made me, and my father was stood in front of me, yelling about how I was going to hell for it, and how I needed it beaten out of me because it was disgusting and animalistic. Do you have any idea how much that hurt? And then he told me directly that I better not ever think about sleeping with another man, and that if I did he’d kill me rather than let me go on calling myself his son.” Race finished his rant with tears threatening to fall, but he sucked air into his lungs to calm himself down.

“Tony, I didn’t know-” Maria sounded almost apologetic for the first time, but Race didn’t want to hear defences for past behaviour.

“I know you didn’t. But now you have a chance to put it right, and you shot it down. You don’t need to love Scott, heaven knows that sometimes he’s insufferable, but I’d like you to accept that he’s my fiancé, and that I love him more than anything.” He was speaking through gritted teeth as he finished talking.

A rustling from the hospital bed interrupted Maria before she could reply, and both she and Race turned quickly to see Sofia trying to sit up in bed to give her own opinion.

“Please, Mom. Spot’s great, really. And you’d have to be blind not to see that they love each other. Honestly, it’s sickeningly cute,” she explained, and Race’s heart grew two sizes. He was so incredibly proud of Sofia for standing up to their mum for him, despite the fact it was going to get her in trouble.

“Sof! You’re alright!” He grinned, sitting on the edge of her bed to check she wasn’t going to faint on them. She always had so much to say that it should have been obvious she’d wake up specially to join in with an argument. Race knew they should call the nurses to check on her, but they were midway through family drama that had been five years in the making and any nurse they called would be made uncomfortable and Race would be the one asked to leave.

“My head hurts like hell, but pretty much. Why are you here, Tony?” Sofia took his hand, and now Race was closer he could see that she was awake but not fully conscious, still under the influence of whatever painkillers they’d given her.

“Mom called. I had to see you were okay,” Race said, squeezing her hand.

“Thanks.” There was a dopey smile on Sofia’s face and Race knew it was at least partly morphine fuelled.

“Scott’s here, too,” Race added, wanting to let her know how much they both cared about her, even if they did complain she was a nuisance sometimes. But the news only panicked Sofia and Race had to stop her from struggling to get up.

“What?! Tony, no. No, he can’t be. Dad is here and-” There was so much fear in her voice that Race was touched by how much she cared for Spot, but he had to put her mind at rest.

“Scott’s okay, he’s waiting downstairs. Mom sent him away. But he definitely said something about you being his little sister, too, which I really should have recorded because he’ll never say that again of his own free will. He wanted to check you were okay.”

“Who did?”

The voice came from the doorway, and even after four years Race could still recognise it. His entire body went cold and he balled his free hand into a fist. Goosebumps spread across his back and arms and he pressed his lips tightly together.

“Dad,” he said, in a level greeting, turning to incline his head to his father. Giovanni Higgins had not changed one bit, and that terrified Race even more.

“Who?” Giovanni’s voice was harsh and sharp and Race could tell he’d heard enough that he had a good idea of who, so it wasn’t worth trying to lie.

Giving Sofia a forced smile, returned only with a fearful shake of the head that he had to ignore, Race stood and faced his father, man to man.

“My fiancé.” There was no waver to his voice. No stutter. His dad had heard the male pronouns Race had been using as he walked in, there was no mistaking that Antony Higgins was now officially out to his parents.

“Antony Giovanni Higgins, I’d think carefully before you say anything else.” His dad was seething, breathing in an out through his nose and almost growling as he spoke. The entire image reminded Race of a bull about to charge.

“No, I’m tired of being afraid of you. Dad, I’m dating a man named Scott. He’s amazing, and I love him with everything I am. I live with him, I sleep in the same bed as him, and I’m going to marry him.” He’d made it this far, there was no sense in not being direct. “I’m gay.”

“You little faggot,” his father spat.

Giovanni stepped forwards to slap his son round the face. Race jumped back just in time to avoid getting hit, but he felt the air rush past his face and swallowed thickly. The only thing he could think was how glad he was that Spot wasn’t here facing this beside him.

“Dad, no!” Sofia protested, reaching out to grab Race’s hand and pull him further away from their father.

“Sof, don’t. It’s okay.” Race nudged her back into bed properly and his father tried to take the opportunity he saw, raising his fist. Maria moved fast, putting her body between her husband and her son.

“Gio, step away from our son,” she ordered. Race froze. He had not been expecting that. He was in a corner, Sofia in her hospital bed across one side and his mother in front of him. His father couldn’t touch him.

“Move, Maria,” Giovanni demanded, flexing the muscles in his hands like he couldn’t wait to get them around Race’s neck. Like he could already feel them there. Still, his mother stood firm.

“No. We haven’t seen him in years and this is how you greet him?” There was accusation thick in her voice.

Race could have pointed out that he hadn’t received the most cordial welcome from her either, but she was defending him now and Race was eternally grateful for that.

“He’s been fucking other men. Someone needs to straighten the little shit out.” Giovanni pulled a face like the words tasted foul, baring his teeth. Race clenched his fists, almost desperate to beg his mum to move so he could connect his knuckles with his father’s face.

“He’s in love.” Maria argued, and Race almost couldn’t believe what he was hearing. His dropped his hands from fists, shocked that his mum was admitting what he felt for Spot was love. “And he’s happy. That boy is everything I could have wanted in a partner for Tony; the first thing he did was defend their relationship-”

Race was overwhelmed, hearing his mother affirm his relationship was completely strange after she’d kicked Spot out of the room. It was a change of heart that he wished his father shared.

“You’re telling me he was here?” Giovanni took a step to the side to stare at Race in incredulity. “You brought him to my family?” The disgust in his voice was clear.

“He _is_ family, to me.” Race explained as calmly as he could. “And to Sofia. She was hurt, and he wanted to come. And I thought she’d be happy to have him here.”

“I am. I would be.” Sofia interjected earnestly. Race adored her for the continued support, but it drew their father’s attention and blame.

“You knew Antony was like this,” he said, almost in disbelief. “You met his…”

“Fiancé,” Race and Sofia both chorused pointedly. Giovanni ignored their input entirely.

“-his fag-”

“Don’t you fucking _dare_ talk about him like that,” Race yelled. He’d rather his dad hit him than spoke like that about Spot. He took a step towards his father, but Maria put her arm out to stop him getting too close.

“-and you said nothing to us.”

Giovanni’s face was a deep, angry red, but Sofia didn’t even flinch. She’d seen her brother with his fiancé, and whilst their relationship was miles from perfect, it was worth defending.

“It wasn’t your business. Tony and I both knew you’d act like this, so neither of us said anything.” She kept her argument reasonable and logic-based, so all her father could do in response was narrow his eyes into a glare, before turning to face his wife.

“Maria, you’re making a choice.” His voice was low and threatening, and it chilled Race right down to the centre of his bones. “Either move out the way and let me deal with the boy, or you, Antony and Sofia are dead to me.” There was no elaboration, no pomp. Just a simple ultimatum, one Race couldn’t let his mother take.

“Mom, you don’t have to-” he tried, but Maria was not about to stand by and let her husband punish her son for being in love.

“You will not hurt my son,” she said, firmly. It was clear there was no deliberation necessary: if Gio wanted to hit Race, he had to go through her. And most likely through Sofia, not that she could put up much of a fight with concussion and a broken arm, but you can bet she’d still try.

Race hated that he had to stand there and let his mum put herself in danger for his sake, but he couldn’t deny that it was far less likely his father would strike Maria. And the moment Giovanni did raise a hand to her, he’d step in without a thought. But Race could see that his father wasn’t going to go against his mother, and there was a collective sign of relief as he stepped backwards. There were no last words, no dramatic conclusion. Giovanni just turned on his heel and left the room.

Maria span round to check on her son, but as soon as the threat was not imminent, he crumpled. This had been a long time coming, and it hadn’t played out the way quite he thought it would but it was still undeniable that his father had reacted violently. Race couldn’t stop himself from shaking; it was years of fear that he’d never been willing to show, all concentrated in one moment. It felt like a panic attack, his throat closing in and making it hard to draw breaths.

Sofia and Maria were frozen for a moment, but Maria’s motherly instinct started to act on autopilot and she guided him to the floor so he could sit and focus on breathing. Sofia had a more innovative plan.

“Can you get me his phone?” she asked, gesturing towards Race’s jacket pocket.

“Why?” Maria replied, confused but obeying the request even as she questioned it. She was ashamed to admit that Sofia knew Race far better than she did.

Sofia unlocked the phone with the code she’d memorised over her brother’s shoulder (just in case) and found ‘Scotty’ at the top of his recent contact list, sending him a message that explained what had happened in as few words as possible. It was a testament to how worried she was about Race that she didn’t read all the texts in the previous conversations. “Spot would help, if I text him to come up here,” she said, for the benefit of her bemused mother. She almost expected to see Maria recoil at the mention of Race’s fiancé, but was pleased to instead just be rewarded with a nod.

 

It was only a few minutes before Spot came barrelling through the door, nodding quickly at Maria before turning his attention to Race. He flinched when his eyes fell on his fiancé, his knees pulled up to his chest and his breath coming in quick pants. To Spot’s surprise, Maria freely moved out of the way and made room for him.

‘Tony?! Shit. What happened?” He dropped to the floor beside Race and gently nudged his chin up so he could see his eyes. “Love, talk to me.” The pet name would usually have made both of them cringe when it was used in front of company, but this situation called for more public affection than they usually tended to show.

Race just shook his head, burying his face in Spot’s shoulder. He knew he was still shaking, but Spot was grounding and he wanted to be as close to him as possible. Spot knew his fiancé, and knew he’d talk when he was ready to explain, so he shuffled around until his back was against the wall and Race was pretty much cuddled against his side, his face still hidden in Spot’s shoulder. Spot looked up at Sofia, happy to see her awake.

“Hey, kiddo. You alright?” he asked, resting his cheek against the top of Race’s head. She was quick to explain everything that had happened, and Spot found himself grinding his teeth as a way to vent his frustration and anger so that he didn’t instead tighten his arms around Race too much and hurt him.

 

Maria watched as the man she’d shunned simultaneously comforted her son, rubbing his hand in circles on his back, and checked up on her daughter. He seemed to be a good kid, and she’d never seen Race relax so quickly, especially considering what he’d just gone through. She wanted to get to know both of them: her son, and her future son-in-law.

 

Once everything had calmed down a little more, Maria called for a nurse to check on Sofia. The man was very confused, when entering the room, to find two young men sat on the floor against the wall, but since Sofia was talking to one of them with a smile on her face he decided it was best not to ask questions. It was easy to sense the tension still in the air, and as soon as he’d established that Sofia was alright, he made a hasty exit. Spot took the chance to stand up, gently pulling Race with him.

“It’s been a long night,” he began, awkwardly. From what Sofia had said, Maria had selflessly defended Race, but that didn’t necessarily mean she was happy with the the two of them.  “I think we should go home. Please, let us know if you need anything. Both you and Sofia. If your husband is genuine in his threats, then you might need somewhere to stay or something?” He and Race didn’t have a lot, but they’d give what they could. This was Race’s family and, Spot guessed, soon to be his, too.

“Yeah. We’re happy to help,” Race added, mostly recovered from his panic. He had a tight grip on Spot’s hand but he could walk, and he was no longer shaking or struggling to breathe.

“I’ll stay at a hotel until I can take Sofia home. Hopefully he’ll have calmed down by then,” Maria said. The ‘because Race won’t be there’ wasn’t said, but they all knew it was implied.

They said their goodbyes, Race claiming his phone back from Sofia before she felt well enough to cause havoc with it. There were definitely some things on there that were none of her business, to say the least. He apologised for stealing her thunder on a night that should have been about her health, but she waved it off. Just as they were about to walk out the door, Maria spoke up.

“Tony, Scott, I’d be honoured to be at your wedding, if you’ll have me.” It was a white flag, a concession that she’d been wrong and she wanted to make peace. It was more than Race had ever expected from her and it took him a moment to respond.

“We’re not actually having a huge ceremony,” he said, pausing but quickly clarifying his meaning once the assumed rejection was evident on his mother’s face. “But you can come to whatever we do have, when we figure out what we want. I’d like to have you there.”

 

It occurred to Race, as he unlocked the front door and let himself and Spot into their apartment, that an awful lot had changed in one night. He was out to his family, his father most definitely hated him, but his mother surprisingly didn’t. Still, despite everything that had happened, all he wanted to do was to go back to sleep for an hour, or whatever they could steal, with Spot at his side. Some things never change.

 

**Author's Note:**

> The urge to not write 'Spot Conlon had never felt smaller. (Which was saying something).' was really strong but I didn't give in...


End file.
